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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625064">Lessons From Soup Cans</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/guide_to_the_galaxy/pseuds/guide_to_the_galaxy'>guide_to_the_galaxy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherhood, Brotherly Bonds, Comfort, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Traditional meals, just all comfort, no hurt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:49:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/guide_to_the_galaxy/pseuds/guide_to_the_galaxy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Soup has been an integral part of Mikey’s life since he could remember, and now the lessons taught through the warm, familiar, customary dishes will guide him in his journey. </p>
<p>Or: Mikey makes a new, unexpected friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Casey Jones &amp; Michelangelo (TMNT), Donatello &amp; Leonardo &amp; Michelangelo &amp; Raphael (TMNT), Michelangelo &amp; Splinter (TMNT)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Miso Soup: Gratitude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Aaaa finally getting to post my zine fic! This was written way before the season finale, so think of it as a Rise AU of sorts! I had speculation at the time that Foot Recruit would be Casey and ran with it in this!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every morning for breakfast Mikey makes his father a bowl of miso soup with rice, grilled fish when he can find some, and egg and daikon. </p>
<p>He uses short grain rice and instant dashi, miso paste, and boils the water. Precisely and neatly, he chops the onions, though his eyes suffer for it, and as for the potatoes, Mikey cuts then into cubes as evenly as his blade and steady hand allow. The fish only needs ginger, onion and soy, and the tamagoyaki is easy to prepare- a little dashi powder, a little sugar, a little soy. </p>
<p>The miso simmers, six minutes usually, but sometimes Mikey lets it sit until he can be sure the potatoes will be perfectly boiled. The tamagoyaki, he flips just so that’ll come out looking like a package kind of omelette, and then it simmers, and then he cuts it into four even quarters.</p>
<p>The bowl of rice goes to the left, miso on the right, daikon on one plate, salmon on one plate, tamagoyaki omelette on the other. Chopsticks beside the bowl.</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s 8:22 am, and Pops, right on time, hobbles his way into the kitchen, a soft smile gracing him because the smell of breakfast has woken him up, and he knows it’ll be good, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mikey </span>
  </em>
  <span>knows it’ll be good- but his heart still flutters in excitement anyway as his father greets him, bowing slightly with a grin, and takes his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>(Now to you this probably seems like a very casual description of an uneventful morning routine, but to understand the absolute weight of miso soup prepared delicately alongside tamagoyaki and daikon and salmon, you’d have to understand Mikey, and so we’re gonna take it back a ways, to 2010. It’s a cold and rainy day in 2010. Evening, really. Their sleep schedules aren’t quite in tune with the world above them, mostly because said world above never seemed to stop going, to get quiet. So the Jitsu family is just starting their day. </p>
<p>And Mikey is wet from the rain.</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s mostly just his feet, because Pop makes sure he has a coat this time, that he wouldn’t be completely soaked during their long walks to get some breakfast. Of course, the trekking’s well worth it; Mikey gets these noodles by the very end, warm and steaming and a little salty. Just the right amount of salt though, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>really, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the chef does a </span>
  <em>
    <span>splendid </span>
  </em>
  <span>job at keeping the flavors balanced and-</span>
</p>
<p>Mikey never pays too much attention to how they obtain these noodles, perfectly seasoned and an explosion of warmth to his body, straight to his fingers and toes. It’s got egg in it, rice and a hint of fish. </p>
<p>He’s, like, five, and five year olds are pretty hit or miss in the detail department, and so Mikey only knows that one minute Pops is fastening Donnie’s coat a little bit tighter, smooshing Mikey closer to his brothers in a darkened alleyway, and then he disappears into a shop and people start screaming inside the shop, though it’s a muffled sound to Mikey and his brothers and Leo’s collecting dimes off the ground even with Raph trying to hold him back.</p>
<p>And then Pops emerges from the shop, smiling and with a bag of five hot bowls of noodles. </p>
<p>That’s it. End of the trip, everyone’s happy. Mikey, more so maybe, because he’s practically dancing from the taste of it. He eats it slowly and deliberately and with the intent to understand.</p>
<p>He asks, “How’d they make this?” </p>
<p>
  <span>And Pops gets this big smile, and sits him down, and just starts spewing facts that make Mikey’s eyes go wide and his heart beat faster because whatever the heck is going on- he wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>in on it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>He doesn’t know what tamagoyaki is, or what mincing means, but the longer Pops is talking about it, and about his own childhood in conjunction with that- well, it’s just sorta amazing. </p>
<p>“We must be grateful for these things,” Pops says at the end of his long demonstration on how Mikey’s new favorite soup came to be, “Not all are as fortunate as we are.”</p>
<p>He takes Mikey’s hand and guides him from the kitchen to the den, and as they walk he speaks, conversationally but in a way that Mikey knows holds some legitimacy and utmost respect for the soup.</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have this home…” he says, gesturing kindly to the messy den, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“And, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot soup. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not many can say they have good hot soup with careful hands to make it and… and lovely bursts of </span>
  <em>
    <span>flavor</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now can they?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey’s never heard his father speak so highly of anything in all of his five years of living, and from that moment on, noodles meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>Hot bowls of soup became a synchrony for something deeply woven within the Jitsu family, an association with safety and belonging and love and balance and gratitude. </p>
<p>
  <span>And even when their sleep schedules align with humankind, and having to sneak around to get a meal becomes less and less of a necessity (unless, of course, a certain sibling turns pizza nabbing into sport), Mikey </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> finds solace in noodles and the culture that bred them, and in those familiar little things he’s grown to associate them with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again,</span>
  </em>
  <span> every morning for breakfast he makes his father a bowl of miso soup with rice, grilled fish when he can find some, and egg and daikon. </span>
</p>
<p>Got it? Great, back to the present please!)</p>
<p>The teapot stops screaming, mint and blueberry scented steam rising in plooms to the ceiling. </p>
<p>“Oh, my son,” Pops’ voice is even, but giddy nonetheless as he lifts his chopsticks, “You have never ceased to surprise me with these meals.” </p>
<p>He meets Mikey’s eyes, and the joy behind them, as well as the pride, nearly makes Mikey burst. </p>
<p>Maybe it’s silly; he’s prepared these breakfasts a hundred times over. But the satisfaction it brings never really gets old. It’s the least Mikey feels he can do for his father. </p>
<p>He must be staring, zoning completely out again, because Pops stops eating, and raises his chopsticks to Mikey. Motioning him over.</p>
<p>“Orange, join your old man, I promise I am not smelly,” he jokes, keeping a straight face just until Mikey snaps back to the present, and then they both share a laugh. </p>
<p>“You really like it?” Mikey asks, just like he does every single morning, and picks up the tamagoyaki with his sticks, dabbing the piece in the miso, “Because if you need me to change or sub in somethin’ I really wouldn't-”</p>
<p>Splinter’s flat stare is enough to shut Mikey up, but he jabs his son’s hand with a chopstick for good measure anyway (and god, this is where donnie gets that deadpan look from).</p>
<p>“You prepared it perfectly, Orange...and <span>everyday it becomes perfect-</span><em><span>er.” </span></em></p>
<p>“That’s not a word, dad…” Mikey snickers around a mouthful of fish. </p>
<p>“Words smords,” Pops drawls, and slurps his <span>soup obnoxiously because he’s the parent here and he gets to do these things, “I am just happy to have such a good son.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>(Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>christ, he is going to cry) </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Heh.” Mikey shrugs in humorously feigned </span>
  <span>modesty underneath his oversized hoodie, still a little damp from his morning meditation up top, “I do be a pretty good son.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pops flings rice at him and Mikey knows that’s </span>
  <span>his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes i love you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey flings it back all the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kitchen is filled with quiet morning laughter, </span>
  <span>and the smell of fish and onion.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“So dad I was thinking…” Mikey accepts the </span>
  <span>washed bowl from his father’s hands, and runs a slightly dampened rag over it, patting the outside of the bowl dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Splinter smacks his hand lightly, though, </span>
  <span>because Mikey always made it a habit to never dry the inside of the bowls, and then they’d make weird little water rings on the shelf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Mikey grumbles, side eyeing his dad as </span>
  <span>he chuckles, “But, um, like I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna say, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I- do you remember that one, funny little time when I kinda sorta got my shit rocked over the Hot Soup game by that ‘sorta our nemesis, but also totally didn’t kill me when she had the chance’?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>Splinter eyes him curiously, with a bit of </span>amusement, “Do you mean last Tuesday?”</p>
<p>Mikey breathes a laugh, rubbing the back of his <span>neck, “Uh- ha, ha, yeah...wow, only last Tuesday, huh? Well um...coincidentally I sorta re-ran into them, like two days after that, and I...well, I didn’t </span><em><span>run into </span></em><span>them, sorta like followed them and, well dad- I think they’re ...</span><em><span>orphaned.”</span></em></p>
<p>The hurt catches in his voice, and he catches Pops’ eyes again, and if Mikey’s perception is as good as he’s been told, then he’s almost sure he sees the pity in them. It’s Splinter’s ‘internal instinct to be a father figure’ activating, in the same way it did years ago with April. </p>
<p><span>And Mikey takes this as leeway into </span><em><span>not</span></em><span> letting </span>this conversation die, his hands wringing around the dish rag so tightly it makes his fingers feel numb, “And, I know you guys are still kinda upsetti that I went solo the other night, but-”</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not…’upsetti’ at you,” Pops rutts his </span>
  <span>brows and  hands Mikey another bowl, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that you have finally chosen to trust yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p>And it’s not like it’s all that surprising to Mikey; </p>
<p>
  <span>Pops could’ve chewed him out way more when his brothers dragged him back home with the Hot Soup video game and a couple scrapes and bruises. But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t- </span>
  </em>
  <span>and maybe that was baffling Mikey a little bit more than a cold shoulder would’ve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But the </span>
  <em>
    <span>guys </span>
  </em>
  <span>aren’t,” Mikey mumbles, placing </span>
  <span>the bowl onto the shelf above them, “And now I don’t know if...like </span>
  <em>
    <span>I definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>trust me, but they don’t…and that makes me...not trust me- if that makes sense?” </span>
</p>
<p><span>“It does…” Splinter says pensively, an invitation </span>for Mikey to just...release whatever it is that he needs to in order to feel more secure. And Mikey takes the invite with gratitude, keeping his eyes on the rag in his hands. </p>
<p>“I dunno, I’m about to do something probably really stupid...and I need,” he purses his lips, searching for the right words. But he can’t find them, not now. And that sucks, but not completely, not when his father looks at him with enough understanding for the both of them, “I need to know I’m making a good call.”</p>
<p>And Pops isn’t perfect with words, but his weight holds a soft yet firm sort of hold on Mikey’s wrist. </p>
<p><span>“Orange, you have a kind heart, it can be a </span>weakness, or a gift,” his father tells him, earnestly, “I do not know all that happened that night with your enemy, but…” he takes a long look at Mikey, “They did pull their punches. The blows they struck were only to temporarily disarm you, be decisive regardless.”</p>
<p>Mikey meets his father’s eyes, drinks in the acceptance in them. </p>
<p><span>“I will…” he croaks out, swallowing, and he </span>nods, “I promise, I’ll be, like, super duper careful. I just. Somebody’s gotta help...or. Or try...to, y’know?”</p>
<p>Pops gives his hand a gentle pat, “Well when <span>you add </span><em><span>‘duper’ </span></em><span>I suppose I have no choice but to let go of worry,” he flashes a smile, the kinda shit-eating grin that Leo gets sometimes.</span></p>
<p>Mikey laughs quietly, his hand falling out of his father’s, “I promise I’ll- cross my heart- I’ll have a tracker on me, I’ll text you, like, every ten minutes, and if things go south, I’ll call.”</p>
<p>And Splinter chuckles, a deep, proud sound in <span>his chest, as he raises a hand to put Mikey at ease, “I know,” he says simply, “I trust you, but I am old and don’t need the stress of my teenage boys running rampant with...with empathy without at </span><em><span>least</span></em><span> tracking their every move. Even if I feel your kindness in this regard, is undoubtedly a gift.”</span></p>
<p><span>He pats Mikey’s shoulder on his way out from </span>the kitchen, but not before turning to Mikey one more time.</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent miso, my son…” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cep Ohaw: Forgiveness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Determined to make amends with his sorta-enemy, Mikey makes several bribes and possibly nit spectacular decisions.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Screw it! Have a chapter 2!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mikey first makes ohaw after a fight with his brothers. To this day he can’t remember what it was over, he knows it was stupid. But the way he carefully cut the salmon and duced the onion and stirred the soup with a ladle too big for his hands as his father patiently instructed him- Mikey never forgot that.</p><p><span>Ohaw became a symbol of amends in some </span>way for Mikey- a very important dish.</p><p>
  <span>Still, salmon is not cheap. </span>
</p><p><span>So Mikey opts to haul scrap metal from the </span>junkyard in Harlem to their home underneath Brooklyn (donnie swears there’s a difference in junkyard quality) which is like super far away on foot (and that’s without having to dodge the general population) all because Raph called dibs on the Turtle Tank, and Donnie pays Mikey handsomely for it. </p><p>
  <span>“I could’ve just </span>
  <em>
    <span>bought</span>
  </em>
  <span> the salmon,” Donnie </span>
  <span>offers about an hour into digging through scraps, “Tu salmon, mi salmon…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because it’s rare that any of them actually ever </span>
  <span>accompany Donnie on these All Day Situations, and not really because they wouldn’t want to- it’s just...Donnie never really asks. And if Mikey admits that he partially just wanted to spend a day with his brother, Donnie would look at him funny and start self deprecating and that would suck an awful lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well actually,” Mikey says through a grunt as </span>
  <span>he yanks a nice looking piece of what used to be a bumper out from underneath a pile, “Mi salmon is just...mi salmon. It serves a higher purpose this time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Donnie looks like he wants to ask, like he’s </span>
  <span>really, really gonna ask, but then he just hops off the garbage pile he’s been digging through, and takes the bumper from Mikey, “Well shit, I told Raph not to bring back gyoza thinking I was going to be consuming large amounts of your gourmet salmon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoves Mikey’s head playfully, “Jerk…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gyoza is way better than salmon,” Mikey quips </span>
  <span>back, and elbows his brother, “And be-” another elbow jab, “Curious and ask me what I’m doing with the salmon, I wanna tell you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Donnie does that involuntary hissing thing </span>
  <span>where he’s annoyed but not in a way that really means anything other than an on instinct reaction to ‘Mikey is currently living up to being a little shit in true Jitsu fashion’, “If you wanted to tell me, what’s the point of-” another elbow jab cuts Donnie off and he simply accepts defeat, blocking Mikey’s next elbow jab, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Staahp-</span>
  </em>
  <span> okay, okay, why do you need the salmon?”</span>
</p><p><span>Mikey grins, wide and triumphant and like a </span>menace, “Oh wow, thank you for asking! Since you wanna know, I’m making ohaw.”</p><p>
  <span>Donnie’s eyes light up, just before they narrow </span>
  <span>because- “Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>screw you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you know that’s my favorite kind of ohaw,” he whines, and all but throws his weight against Mikey’s shoulder, “I’ll pay you double for a sliver of the portion with which you are cruelly </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> blessing the O’neils with.” </span>
</p><p><span>“Ta,” Mikey laughs sharply, “Who said it’s for the </span>O’neils?” </p><p><span>Donnie sits upright again on his knees, in </span>mounds of garbage, “Well if it’s not for us, your loving, beautiful family, and if it’s not for the O’neils...then who the hell gets to eat your-”</p><p>
  <span>And it’s like Mikey can literally and physically </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>the lightbulb go off above his brother’s head, and somewhat curses himself for never being able to keep a good secret, but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>them?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Donnie takes Mikey by the </span>
  <span>shoulders, spinning him so that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him, “I knew it, I knew it, right when Leo was putting peroxide on you and you said- </span>
  <em>
    <span>and I quote- </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘they weren’t all that bad, I think they might just be lonely’, I knew you would try and help them- aw </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Mikey, they could’a </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed you- !”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>“But they didn’t!” Mikey blurts out, and takes </span>Donnie’s hands off his shoulders, tugging at his brother’s arms, “Pops said they-”</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, dad </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows- </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he’s cool with you just </span>
  <span>pot-lucking it up with someone who, and I repeat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>could have killed you. Over</span>
  </em>
  <span> a video game.” </span>
</p><p><span>“Hey, Hot Soup is legendary, totally worth a </span>tooth and nail kinda fight-”</p><p>
  <span>Donnie looks like he’s going to cry which </span>
  <span>means he’s definitely on the verge of panic and oh crap, that’s not what Mikey meant to do at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But Donnie’s also not who he was a year ago, </span>
  <span>and so he swallows his panic back and steels himself and looks at Mikey with a little less terror than he’d had a few seconds ago. And Mikey isn’t who </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was even maybe six days ago, and he knows that joking his way through this is bullshitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Dee, I know it sounds hella dangerous, </span>
  <span>but they- they could’ve killed me over that, but they didn’t, and they’re, like, a kid, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>us. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And I been scopin’ ‘em out. They’re an orphan...Maybe they got the wrong idea. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe </span>
  </em>
  <span>they just need, like, friends or whatever. Like Frankenfoot...or some other people who kinda wanted to kill us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Donnie’s grimacing, but in the kinda way that’s </span>
  <span>on the edge of accepting defeat in this, and he inhales deeply, his exhale coming out with a laugh, “But </span>
  <em>
    <span>ohaw </span>
  </em>
  <span>though? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cep ohaw? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You couldn’t make your ‘almost killed you, now we’re friends’ person like, chicken nuggets- dino shaped?”</span>
</p><p><span>“Dino nuggies were my </span><em><span>second option,” </span></em><span>Mikey </span>drawls, “But that’s for second tier friendship, and we’re totally not there yet.”</p><p><span>Donnie seems to consider it, and finally seems </span>like he’s somewhat okay with Mikey’s inability to ignore someone else’s suffering, “Yeah I guess it did take April a full six months of friendship to be blessed with Tyson’s dino-shaped, white meat chicken nuggets. A momentous occasion.”</p><p>
  <span>“Immensely,” Mikey adds, knocking shoulders </span>
  <span>with his brother for good measure, to signify that they’re cool, not that he really had any doubts about that, but he’s still gotta be sure... “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>trust me, though...right?”</span>
</p><p><span>He hates digging this deep, not that it’s all that </span>deep really- it’s just, sometimes it’s easier to keep things casual and relaxed and stupid, and maybe Mikey hates dwelling on insecurities like this because he’ll probably hate the answer. But lately he’s been feeling a little ballsy and thinks he could probably take Dee’s brutal honesty, like maybe he can handle a little insight on how he’s perceived by others. </p><p><span>Donnie, who most definitely hates getting deep, </span>looks at Mikey in a way that’s sympathetic and, at best, understanding, “I trust you,” he answers, simply, and there's no need for him to say more or to elaborate on that. </p><p>
  <span>There’s weight to those three words, and </span>
  <span>permission, because even though Mikey doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>it- he’s impossibly grateful for it anyway.</span>
</p><p><span>“Now explaining this to Raph…” Donnie lets his </span>words trail off, knowing Mikey’s already picking up what he’s putting down. </p><p><span>“Raph...doesn’t hafta know yet…” Mikey turns </span>to Donnie fully, hoping his brother can sense the urgency in this, and in the off chance that he doesn’t, Mikey adds a bit of Jitsu theatrics for the proverbial cherry on top.</p><p>
  <span>He takes Donnie’s hands into his, covered in </span>
  <span>dirt and grime and callousy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please- I’ll be your lab igor for, like, eternity if </span>
  <span>you could cover for me.” He gives Dee’s hands an extra tug just to be sure he’s selling it, and forces a few tears to well up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Donnie groans, sliding his hands </span>
  <span>out of Mikey’s, “You’re getting as good as me, it’s disgusting- yes, I’ll cover for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh bless you, thank you, thank you, thank </span>
  <span>you-” Mikey continues babbling out his gratitude even as Donnie, completely over it but no less amused, shoves him off and starts organizing his piles. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It’s not incredibly hard to sneak out; besides the </span>
  <span>whole ninja situation, Mikey’s just always acquired the skill for slipping away unnoticed, much to the heart-attack inducing dismay of his father. Because, like, when you’re seven and overly dramatic it’s definitely perfectly normal to see how long your family will notice you’ve gone and shimmied your way underneath the couch and placed yourself inside your shell. </span>
</p><p><span><br/></span>Like, all kids do that. </p><p>
  <span>But Mikey’s not seven and overly dramatic </span>
  <span>anymore. He’s fourteen and overly dramatic, and so instead of being a normal person and telling his family he’s made plans for the night that do not require their accompanying,  he does something even more suspicious and leaves a note that he spent a half hour trying to word correctly, concocting a believable reason for going out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He settles on ‘we need eggs’, forgetting that </span>
  <span>they, in fact, do not need eggs. They have plenty of eggs. Mikey is not a good liar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>April lets him cook the ohaw at her house and, </span>
  <span>being equally terrible at lying, nervously spends their time together coming up with her script for the inevitable ‘have you seen mikey’ text that Raph’ll send in an hour or so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey talks her into covering him anyway- in </span>
  <span>spite of their combined lack of skill in bullshitting- and it doesn’t take all that much convincing for her to give him a ride to the apartment of who could either be a deadly enemy or a pretty misunderstood friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technically it’s a win-win; April needs to </span>
  <span>practice her driving and Mikey can’t walk forty-five minutes from Brooklyn to Queens with a pot of ohaw in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how I feel about this…” April grips </span>
  <span>the steering wheel, still not entirely comfortable without her hands on 10 and 2, “Like if you get… if they’re- like I’ll definitely complicit with your potential murder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her headlights are overbright, she definitely </span>
  <span>doesn’t need the high beams. Mikey reaches over and shuts them off and puts the car in park for April because she’s obviously having a minor crisis right now. And it’s like-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure I had more chances of dying on the </span>
  <span>drive here anyway,” Mikey says, and it’s enough to snap April out of it, her face switching from panic to the deadpan look she gets about her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me make you walk home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would, and Donnie’s living proof of that </span>
  <span>actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>if you’re not back out here from your </span>
  <span>little meals on wheels delivery in twenty minutes I’m going in and messing somebody up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey takes his feet down from the dashboard, </span>
  <span>“Okay </span>
  <em>
    <span>that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know you’ll do that,” he says around a laugh, kicking the passenger door open, “And I love you immensely for it, but I think... I’ll be good. Just a little ‘here I forgive you for trying to kill me’ peace offering, and bounce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shutting the door and going around the front of </span>
  <span>April’s car to step up on the sidewalk, Mikey offers a cheeky smile and hefts his pot, his smile only widening at April’s attempt at hiding her own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laxes a bit, though, thank god, and rolls her </span>
  <span>window down to tug Mikey by his hoodie before he can completely get away, making sure to keep their eyes locked for long enough for Mikey to </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, I know you got this, I’m happy </span>
  <span>you’re following your big ass heart,” she says, with every inch of the longsuffering patience of friend, “But humor me and just be extra careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She holds firm to him for one extra second, and </span>
  <span>Mikey curtly nods. And when April lets him go, Mikey tries to look half as confident as he felt earlier.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>As stalkerish as it may sound, the minute Mikey </span>
  <span>tracked the Foot recruit down, he made extra effort to make mental note of just about everywhere they went. Which wasn’t incredibly hard with a photographic memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just scribbled down the address on a gum </span>
  <span>wrapper six days ago and made absolutely sure to keep that gum wrapper tucked in his fanny pack, folded neatly amongst lots of stickers and junk and shit that he has trouble parting with. </span>
</p><p>So he’s pretty sure he’s got the right apartment </p><p>
  <span>building, and there’s only one door that has New York Rangers posters plastered all over it with a non-New York Rangers poster that says ‘f*ck off if you not Amazon’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fair enough. </span>
</p><p><span>Mikey takes a deep breath, flexes his fingers </span>and raises his fist to knock. </p><p><span>He prepares for the obnoxiously loud noise of </span>an otherwise quiet apartment building being sliced through with the knock, but the sound never comes.</p><p><span>Because before Mikey gets the chance, his </span>knuckles meet...nothing really.  His wrist is caught in a tight grip though, high above his head, and, in a blink, Mikey’s met with an understandably pissed off face. </p><p><span>And it’s not like Mikey entirely planned for them </span><span>to be super happy</span> <span>to see him but he’d be lying if he said the irritation wasn’t slightly disappointing. </span></p><p>
  <span>The Foot recruit holds their stare, eyeliner half </span>
  <span>done, they hold his wrist tighter with a slight tug that makes Mikey stumble as his brain struggles to come up with words and to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>just say whatever the heck-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh...” comes out of Mikey’s mouth anyway, </span>
  <span>completely screwing over rationality, and his smile’s crooked and short of a grimace, but, god, he’s trying, “Wassup…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So maybe he’s the youngest and therefore </span>
  <span>seriously lacking de-escalation skills. That never seemed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter</span>
  </em>
  <span> until now. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a tanto to his neck in a second, and </span>
  <span>when Mikey meets the recruit’s eyes he hopes they see no threat behind them because he’s really trying to, like, not drop the pot of ohaw and mess this up even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you totally weren’t expecting-”</span>
</p><p><span>Foot recruit puts the tanto closer and says, </span>finally: “If this is some shitty payback for me putting that scar on you, I promise I’ll make sure this one is permanent….” </p><p><span>“It’s...not,” Mikey says slowly, leaning away </span>from the blade, “On my highest honor ‘m not...here ta hurt you. Just drop your weapon.”</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make sense,” the recruit snarls, </span>
  <span>“Drop </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> weapon.”</span>
</p><p><span>Mike makes a choked sound in his throat, that’s </span>meant to be some kind of exasperated laugh but there’s a tanto inches from his neck so... there’s that.</p><p><span>“It’s not- this is </span><em><span>food!” </span></em><span>he gasps out instead, </span>trying to heft the pot a little more in his free arm, “Please, this position is uncomfortable and I’m gonna drop your ohaw all over the place and-”</p><p><span>The recruit, abruptly, lets Mikey go, taking a few </span>steps back from him, the wrapping on their feet unraveled a little bit so that they dragged across the floor as they moved. Their eyes soften, though they stay cautious, and Mikey forgets he’s not still being held in a ‘one arm uncomfortably held high in a death grip’ position. </p><p>
  <span>He lets himself breathe a little bit. </span>
</p><p><span>“Give me your stew,” the recruit commands, </span>their arms outstretched, but stops themself short of grabbing hold of it when Mikey hesitantly begins to hand it over. </p><p><span>“No,” they say, eyes narrowing slightly, “Taste </span>it, now. If it’s poisoned, you’ll die and I’ll make turtle soup instead.” </p><p><span>(Why does that joke sound so, so familiar to </span>Mikey? It’s like he’s heard it a dozen ti-)</p><p>
  <span>He finds himself tasting it anyway, dipping his </span>
  <span>finger in and licking the ohaw clean off and, having not been poisoned or whatever, he flashes the recruit a grin that he hopes is friendly despite them, again, having attempted sorta-murder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Mikey doesn’t really get it, he can’t exactly </span>
  <span>deconstruct himself enough to express and explain why he so desperately </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs </span>
  </em>
  <span>this- needs for them to know they’re not his enemy, needs to give them a chance, needs to patch up and fix and rectify. It’s just his...schtick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So maybe, when the recruit takes the pot from </span>
  <span>him, shoves him out of their apartment faster than Mikey can really process, slams the door so hard that their hockey sticker falls off, but not so hard that it radiates “never come back ever again” energy- well, Mikey takes that as a sign of hope, a silver lining or something. </span>
</p><p>He swears he almost saw them smile. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love Donnie and Mikey’s dynamic and it’s not much of a headcon as I’m pretty sure it’s canon, but I just imagine them regularly hauling it to junkyards a lot. Also Big Sis April is PRIME.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hōtō: Courage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mikey’s got some things to work out. Believing in the ones that’ve hurt you isn’t always easy. Luckily Mikey’s got good people in his corner.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A teeny bit of a time skip but maybe by like a few weeks?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>“Ion know… I guess I just wish it was a little </span>less complicated you know?”</p>
<p><span>There’s a few beats of silence where Mikey just </span>swirls his straw, scraping the bottom of his cup.</p>
<p>There are a lot of things that Mikey doesn’t <em><span>mean </span></em><span>to have happen; he doesn’t mean to always forget to make up his bed and he doesn’t mean to get paint on all the couches, he really doesn’t mean to stay up watching YouTube drama videos until three in the morning and- Mikey doesn’t mean to be enjoying mango boba every Tuesday with his used-to-be enemy.</span></p>
<p>Who’s got a name apparently.  </p>
<p>Their name is Casey Jones, and they make good ass boba. And they might be just as lonely as Mikey feels sometimes- even in the midst of five fantastic family members. </p>
<p>
  <span>(Okay, look- it’s not exactly like Mikey’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>planned</span>
  </em>
  
  <span>for this. He gets CJ’s still </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the Foot in one way or another, but Mikey’s got this big problem with his heart being too big and his brain not leaving him alone until it was undoubtedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Mikey had solidified himself as a friend to the Foot recruit.</span>
</p>
<p>Then, you know, after, like, three consecutive nights of him spying, Casey caught on, and maybe they knew even before that. </p>
<p>But Mikey’d been perched the windowsill, hiding one moment and yanked into Casey’s apartment the next. Casey didn’t say a word as they marched back to their couch, resuming a hockey game on TV. Mikey had never watched hockey before until that night. Both teams really sucked.) </p>
<p>And now...they’re here, Mikey slurping up the remaining tapioca beads and CJ in their pajamas, charting cookie sale profits. </p>
<p>Listening to Mikey’s problems. </p>
<p>“Baron Draxum is a royal asshat, run it by me <span>again </span><em><span>why </span></em><span>you’re so wound tight over this?” CJ is blunt but in a way that reminds Mikey a lot of Donnie, and so the sigh he gives out is more like gut reaction and second nature than anything else. </span></p>
<p><em><span>“Because, </span></em><span>I saw him on the street, wrinkly and </span>deflated. And I know we’re kinda not on that level yet but I’m gonna dump something heavy on you, okay?”</p>
<p>Mikey takes a deep breath, and lets his <span>shoulders sag just a little bit more, “I just feel like….I owe him a chance to. Fix stuff. Like I always felt weird just having </span><em><span>one parent, </span></em><span>you know?”</span></p>
<p>CJ snorts, yanking theie fridge open, and Mikey catches himself, smiling sheepishly at them.</p>
<p>“My bad. Forgot- but, like. Yeah...it just- see, I sound like a jerk complaining- dad is great and I’m lucky to have a parent at all but-”</p>
<p><span>Casey knees Mikey’s leg as they walk past </span>where Mikey sits up on the counter, “Don’t let my orphaning make you guilty, I’m practically an adult.” </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re 16…” Mikey rutts his brow ridge.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Okay </span><em><span>and?” </span></em><span>CJ gets that glint that Mikey’s </span>come to recognize as something of a mad-person, “The state doesn’t know that. The Foot does a pretty good job at fraudulence.” </p>
<p>“Well they shouldn’t have to,” Mikey counters, and means it, “You should have parents and a home...like, legally.” </p>
<p>CJ seems to consider that for a second, too brief for Mikey to really make anything of it, because they’re lathering mayonnaise on their sandwich the next, their eyes narrowing on Mikey.</p>
<p>“And you shouldn’t have to play marriage counselor,” he says, biting into his sandwich, “So who’s in a more messed up situation?” </p>
<p>
  <span>Mikey can’t...really answer that. He’s still kinda </span>
  <span>stuck on the fact that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>playing marriage counselor here. That maybe he should mind his business. One new ally at a time type of thing. Or maybe Draxum doesn’t deserve it at all. </span>
</p>
<p>And then Mikey’s eyes land on CJ’s mayonnaise, mustard and cheese sandwich, and his doubts kinda just go away because-</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Food…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he says, just as the thought cements </span>
  <span>itself in his head, “Yo I think I got an idea on how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fix </span>
  </em>
  <span>this!”</span>
</p>
<p><span>Quirking a brow, CJ follows Mikey’s eyes to the </span>sandwich in their hand, “You’re gonna make him a sandwich?”</p>
<p><span>Mikey’s smile grows wild; maybe it’s the boba </span>recharging brain cells but he’s suddenly feeling a lot less foggy than when he first came through CJ’s window on this breezy October night. </p>
<p><span>“Nah,” he says, hopping off the counter, “Case, </span>you ever make hōtō?” </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Hōtō is </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious- </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mikey’s never met anyone </span>
  <span>who doesn’t like it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though he hasn’t exactly <em>met</em> many people. Or </span>
  <span>anybody who really...knew Japanese cuisine like he did. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>still. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hōtō is god tier, and if there’s any meal to potentially bring his two dads together, it’s Hōtō. </span>
</p>
<p>Mikey gives an excuse to dodge Adventure Time marathoning with his brothers to slip out and once again make April an accomplice of his very innocent scheming. </p>
<p>It’s a Saturday and she’s bored out of her mind anyway. And after witnessing Mikey come back alive from the six or so times he’s been over at Casey’s, April eased up a ton.</p>
<p>“Damn, you live like this?”</p>
<p>She still has no filter though.</p>
<p>“Mikey, who the hell’s this?” </p>
<p>
  <span>Neither does CJ (mikey can’t decide if that’s </span>
  <span>good or bad yet). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dropping the groceries on the counter, Mikey </span>
  <span>yanks off his hoodie, trading it for the apron he stuffed in his backpack. “April, be nice- CJ, that’s-”</span>
</p>
<p>“Oh, I know her,” Casey drawls, “I just wanted to confirm…”</p>
<p>“My fans are usually shocked to meet me in person,” April quips, pressing a smile as she extends her arm for a handshake, her other hand pocketed in baggy overalls, “Pleased ta meet’cha formally though!”</p>
<p><span>Mikey spares his two friends an amused glance </span>as Case takes April’s hand and slaps it away- they’re gonna get along just fine he thinks- nothing like lesbian tension to start off a friendship.</p>
<p>He pats his hands dry on the apron and setting to work. </p>
<p>Leo calls it Mikey’s “Ramsey Zone”, but a little less ass-holery- still, the perfectionism is there. And luckily April’s made this with him before. </p>
<p><span>They roll the dough carefully in the bowl, </span>kneading it with steady force as they do, and stretch the dough out. It’s a dry dough, and probably one of Mikey’s favorites to work with.</p>
<p><span>Good pumpkins were easy to come by, niboshi </span>not so much. But Casey found some packs of the little sardines at the market, and so, along with taro and carrots and a little Chinese cabbage, shiitake and diced chicken, they create some bomb ass dashi. </p>
<p>The noodles are boiled right along with the rest of the ingredients, and as it simmers, Mikey can’t help but feel like-</p>
<p>“You’re not gonna fail, Mikey,” April says with enough warmth and earnestness to anchor Mikey usually. But this is big stuff. “You already got Draxum the apartment, you think he’s gonna pass up on your hōtō?” </p>
<p><span>“He might, he’s kinda a dick,” Casey offers up </span>wryly, and catches themself when April’s face falls deadpan, “But not that much...? of a dick…? Your father would be proud anyway.”</p>
<p><span>Mikey wrings his hands, peering into the pot, </span>“Or he’d totally freak or be pissed or whatever...like, I don’t know. And then what if the guys freak out. I didn’t even think…” </p>
<p>He doesn’t realize how much he’s clenching his fists until April unravels them, slowly peeling Mikey’s fingers away and placing her hands there. </p>
<p>If her words and her eyes weren’t enough to ground Mikey then this is it, his sort of lifeline in all of this right now. He’s only got two people in the whole world who know how shitty he’s been feeling, and they’re right here- an odd pair, and here regardless. </p>
<p>Mikey counts himself lucky in this way, more than he counts himself star-crossed in every other fashion.</p>
<p>The apartment smells like pumpkin and miso broth. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really enjoyed that Rise showed Mikey’s need to Make Things Right- and because he’s 13 he’s not always gonna consider every consequence, but his heart is definitely in the right place with Draxum, just as it was with Casey!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Kurīmu Shichū  Accountability and Understanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which some things are found out and some people come to an understanding.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Omg I thought I posted this last chapter only to log in and see I didn’t!! Aaa please forgive me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The dinner….happens. Mikey is neither pleased </span>
  <span>or entirely disappointed by the results of his well-intended scheme; Draxum is a wanted man and the unwanted remainder of Mikey’s family just seem to tiptoe around the whole situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one wants to be mad at Mikey- and maybe </span>
  <span>they </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be- but it feels like everyone is somehow. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>talking about it has made Mikey almost feel suffocated in his own home which sucks exponentially. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The exponential suckiness only gets worse </span>
  <span>when he messes up an attempt on kurīmu shichū and has to reorder groceries and runs out to CJ’s for some onions and carrots, only for the universe to shit on him and have Raph drive past the exact moment Mikey was slipping out Case’s window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he just comes clean because lying to Raph </span>
  <span>directly is pretty much a crime punishable by a lifetime of shame and guilt and- well, Mikey might as well just say it. </span>
</p><p><span>The Turtle Tank is built to withstand many </span>things- flying through a stop sign and over a pothole in the road due to Raph’s panicky frustration are some of those things. </p><p>
  <span>“Okay so….you keep </span>
  <em>
    <span>Draxum </span>
  </em>
  <span>a secret for </span>
  <span>weeks, getting the guy a cute little apartment </span>
  <em>
    <span>by April</span>
  </em>
  <span>- </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>you get’cha groceries delivered by some Foot Clan member?”</span>
</p><p><span>“We’re...actually...friends now,” Mikey corrects </span>hesitantly as he grimaces, sinking impossibly lower into the passenger’s seat. Humor wasn’t going to work, noted.</p><p>
  <span>Raph opens his mouth and clamps it shut. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Trying to be patient</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that’s what makes Mikey feel incredibly more guilty than he thought possible. </span>
</p><p>“I was gonna tell you-”</p><p><em><span>“When, </span></em><span>though?” Raph asks, interjecting </span>Mikey’s attempt at smoothing this over, “Because, accordin’ to you, it’s been like...over a month.”</p><p><span>Mikey fiddles with his seatbelt strap, and </span>desperately wishes to disappear, or for Leo to call wanting nachos again for dinner. “I know...it looks sus because I took so long to tell you, but dad and Dee knew so it wasn’t-”</p><p>
  <span>Raph pushes on the breaks a little too hard at </span>
  <span>the light, and the way he looks at Mikey is, like, just the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>“Wait, wait, wait- you told…dad- and Donnie, </span>but you couldn’t tell me what was up? Mikey…”</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mikey says in earnest, “I just. You. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Are a worrier and Leo’s an always-needs-to-be-righter and I just...I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to fix something </span>
  <em>
    <span>on my own. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not with you guys...hovering.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting that out lets Mikey breathe a little </span>
  <span>easier, but the silence that follows afterwards puts the weight and pressure right back on his chest, as the light turns green and Raph hits the gas again, staring straight ahead at the road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s chewing his tongue, and he only does that </span>
  <span>when he’s hurt or pissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Mikey’s guessing right now….it’s both.</span>
</p><hr/><p><span>Raph doesn’t talk about their talk and so now </span>there’s two or three shitty things hanging in the air that no one wants to talk about. </p><p>
  <span>Two or three things that basically revolve </span>
  <span>around Mikey trying to do good and failing miserably at it on mostly all accounts. He’s hurting his family by trying to help people who could </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>family- and maybe he empathizes a lot with the people he chooses to reform, but maybe he’s been a little selfish that way.</span>
</p><p><span>He hasn’t thought much about all the parties </span>involved...or the complicated, icky feelings of said parties. </p><p><span>And Mikey mentally prepared himself for the </span>chewing out he’ll get from Leo or Raph or both later- so he’s a bit surprised when Leo finds him in the kitchen and pulls up a stool and tells him-</p><p><span>“Yeah, it did suck ass to see BD super </span>randomly like that, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up. It might turn into a good thing, you know?”</p><p>
  <span>Mikey tries not to sound so enthused at that, </span>
  <span>because he still caused trouble that he never meant to, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>it turns out that he was somewhat right. </span>
</p><p><span>And maybe Leo gets that, maybe he knows </span>how conflicting all of this is. </p><p>
  <span>He nudges Mikey’s arm and offers a soft, </span>
  <span>reassuring smile, “And he could’ve killed us if he was still, like, into that,” he says, “But here we are, all alive and shit. Now that you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>strikes with secret keeping though....Ion know, you might be on thinner ice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikey laughs, and out of it comes a little bit of </span>
  <span>relief, “I promise, I’m an open book from here on out,” he says, but isn’t so sure he can promise that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>been open- but they’re </span>
  <span>getting a little older, carving their destinies that seem to both intertwine and diverge. And Mikey isn’t so sure he can promise to be so open so freely, as much as he tries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the very cool thing about Leo is- he already </span>
  <span>knows that. He knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mikey. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Without having to know everything, Leo knows Mikey. And maybe that’s what made their bond a little more laxed; Leo was fine with just...not knowing sometimes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still gonna milk this till it runs </span>
  <em>
    <span>dry, </span>
  </em>
  <span>though, </span>
  <span>you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>know that right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” Mikey sighs but it’s more from relief than </span>
  <span>anything, because it means they’re cool at least, “Kinda was countin’ on that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo half hugs him, and they stay that way for a </span>
  <span>while. </span>
</p><hr/><p><span>Three days later and Mikey walks in to find a </span>pretty nicely prepared kurīmu shichū. Two bowls sit opposite one another. </p><p><span>The kitchen is so tidy Mikey already knows it’s </span>Raph who made it, but he’s still pleasantly surprised anyway when he brother comes awkwardly to sit down, offering an apologetic smile. </p><p>Mikey’s sure his own mirrors that sentiment.</p><p>
  <span>And Raph asks to know more about CJ, and </span>
  <span>more about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mikey- </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the night is filled with gentle laughter and a deep understanding. </span>
</p><p><span>The air filled with the steam and smell and love, </span>of hot soup. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that’s the end! I wrote this before the finale so see this fic as  an AU of sorts! My perception of Rise!Casey varies from fic to fic and in this one I really wanted to explore their dynamic with Mikey! </p><p>I also wanted to explore Mikey’s desire to fix things and see good in others, even to a fault and even if sometimes he incidentally misses others’ feelings over it.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Stay tuned for the remaining chapters!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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